Light me up
by a-fine-sid
Summary: Set after the events of season 6, Jon Snow and Sansa Stark are learning how to be a team and their first target is Littlefinger. Along the way, their feelings for each other will grow stronger in a way neither of them had expected or anticipated.
1. Long and Lost

**Note:** **Soo this is my second fanfic ever, after I said I probably wouldn't upload one again but then I fell into this ship and here we are. I hope whoever stumbles across this likes it! As for updates... I hope to update at least once a week but since I am going to school full time that'll be a challenge. I'll do my best though!**

There is no question or argument; Sansa Stark has had the harshest of trials throughout her life. The history books that would mention her in the future will probably question how such a frail and fragile looking girl made it through all of them. As she sat in her old room at Winterfell, she shook as all the terrifying things she witnessed ran through her again. She could try to forget, move on, go on living her life. But she also knows it's impossible, and that she would be living a lie.

Her parents, her brothers; Robb and Rickon, she knew were dead. Arya and Bran could be too, but it was beyond hope to wonder if they were still alive. After watching Rickon die before her very eyes, it was hard to accept that there was any hope.

But then there was Jon Snow, her half-brother, who had come back from the dead. At the thought of him, she thought of his words as they reconciled from their misunderstandings. In that moment, he had put some hope into her again.

When they started chanting "King in the North!" her hope started to grow, as she looked into his wondering eyes. There was going to be a bright road ahead of them.

Or so she thought. Everything to do with hope or the mere thought of having it disappeared as she looked into the eyes of Petyr Baelish; who was not standing or chanting.

She closed her eyes and let the smell of her room fill her again. It was nighttime, which used to bring about calm and peace for her. All that came was sadness though. A shudder came over her again as she tried to be calm, but it was hard. She was home, she was safe with Jon, everything was how it should be with their current circumstances. So why didn't the darkness in her go away? Why didn't she overcome her demons?

The night dragged on, she couldn't trust herself to sleep, not when she was afraid that someone was going to stab Jon in his. She couldn't lose him, not when she had just got him back and saw her future with him.

After a long time of sitting in her bed thinking, she decided it was time to get up and start walking.

Before she left, she equipped herself with a dagger that Jon gave her. He even taught her how to use it, which she was grateful for. And she thought of that time he gave her those lessons, it was right before they left the wall, and then periodically when they had time on the road he made her practice. Because of him she now knew how to stop a man from hurting her, if it ever came to that again.

In the midst of her wandering, she found herself right in front of her parents' chamber, which now belonged to Jon. No matter what anyone might say or think she knows he deserves that room.

"Sansa?" A familiar voice said from behind.

She turned abruptly and nearly jumped at the sight of her brother; who was looking at her with a mixture of confusion and wonder.

She composed herself quickly. "Hello Jon," she said in an odd, but proper voice. "I couldn't sleep and I was just wandering and I guess I found myself here…"

"Ah," Jon said nodding his head. He then cracked a small smile. "Would you like to come in for a bit then? I share your predicament, and I wouldn't mind a little company."

Sansa nodded, and he opened the door and let her in. Her first thought was how strange it was to enter this room. So much has changed since the last time she had been in it. The real question though, was how much of it was for the better?

The room had been cleaned up and changed; probably at least three or more times, so it's not how she remembers it. It definitely didn't feel the same either, she just imagined how the Boltons must have enjoyed sleeping in a bed that most certainly didn't belong to them.

As Jon started a fire going she sat in on of the chairs nearby and played with her hair to gather her thoughts. The last time they talked alone was when they reconciled about their fight before the battle, and suddenly at the darkest part of the night she's in his room; which once belonged to her parents. Where do they go from here?

"So, I trust you can take care of Littlefinger?" Jon said casually, rubbing his hands together for warmth and sitting in the other chair after the flame had gathered enough strength to stand on its own.

With that statement Sansa looked at him with her eyes wide. "So you know then, that he's probably plotting something?" Her hands stopped, and she put them in her lap.

"Yeah, your words about him made me aware that I should pay attention to him. So when everyone was chanting I glanced his way, and I saw him only making eye contact with you." Sansa took note of his face, and how worried he looked.

"If he was, I doubt he'd share it with me." She thought of their encounter prior to that moment, and hoped the words she said to him made it pretty clear where she lies. He may have tried to plant words like "half-brother" and "you should be the queen" into her head, but his words have no effect on her now. Sansa is home, and if there's any game here, it's hers to win.

Jon leaned a bit closer to her, and his face was serious. Sansa had to take a breath to hold on to her composure. "I trust you to do the right thing Sansa, I hope you know that."

Sansa let out her breath and grabbed his hand, smiling. This is exactly what she needed, _he_ was exactly what she needed. It was going to be alright. They were going to be alright.

"I will, and I'm going to let you know now that, no matter what I do or say from now on, it will be toward our one goal: getting rid of him."

Jon smiled, and his hand held onto hers tightly. In that moment the world around them disappeared for a moment, and it was only them. A strange feeling it was for both of them, and it came so easily now. The thought was both scary and exciting for Sansa, and she really hoped they could work together now. All thoughts of the past had been wiped away as she focused on his face. She could see a hint of her father living on in that face, and it filled her with warmth.

"Well then, I trust you Sansa, and I know you won't let me down," Jon said in a deep voice. Hearing those words gave her a sense of hope again. They definitely had a connection between them, that much she knew.

"You won't regret that," Sansa said, smiling and keeping her gaze on his eyes. "I swear it."

 **End Note: If you've gotten this far then yay! Please give me a review and let me know what you think! This story is going to be really complicated because I think these characters are kinda complicated, so I would love to know if I am doing them justice. And with that, thanks for reading and look forward to the next update!**


	2. Trust Each Other

**Note: Okay first of all I want to say a huge thank you to everyone who commented on the first chapter, it really meant a lot to me that this got the response it did ;3 This next chapter is from Jon's POV. He might be a little ooc but for the sake of this fanfiction this is how I'm writing him. So I hope I did him justice? Please leave a comment and let me know what you think!**

Jon didn't go to sleep that night. He was almost scared to, because all he could think of was what he had to go through to get back to WInterfell. The title of king should have gone to Robb, or at the very least, to Sansa. But this world has screwed him and all of his siblings over, and they got nothing they originally wanted. Those thoughts should have gone away with his victory over reclaiming Winterfell, but they didn't. The fighting is never over, and his conversation with Sansa the night before only proves that further.

There was no time to dwell on it though, because there were more important matters. As he walked to the dining hall he wondered what he was going to tell his other advisors; Tormund and Davos about what he wanted to do next. He felt like the first thing he should do is rebuild Winterfell back to its former glory. At the same time though, there was the matter of the White Walkers and any potential threat coming from the south. As far as he knew, there would be some sort of conflict there.

He feels like they should be invincible; like nothing can stop them now. But he knew that was the former Jon Snow who thought such a thing. That man is dead now, and Jon wanted to laugh at the irony of that, but laughing was a hard thing to do nowadays.

Just as he thought that though, he entered the dining hall, and Sansa was there. He stopped for a moment to observe her; she was sitting properly next to the seat that was now meant for him. He assumed the dress she wore was new too; it was a deep violet, and it had their house's sigil on her chest, only a bit bigger perhaps. Her face was empty and tired, which mirrored his.

"Good morning Sansa," he said as he sat down in the lord's chair. "Did you get any sleep?"

Sansa looked up at him, and he saw the emotions and color return to her face. She smiled at him and shook her head. "Not at all, but I'll be alright… Did you sleep?"

"No, there's always too much on my mind. That's not important though, what will you be doing today?" For some reason when he was talking to her that was his only focus. All the background thoughts of his situation just faded away into an abyss. It was a nice feeling for Jon.

"I suppose things a lady should be doing; like making clothing, and gossiping around the court," Sansa said lightly smiling to herself.

Jon smiled back, and he knew that wasn't all she would be doing, but in an ideal life, that would have been the truth. Sansa should have still been at King's Landing. Though he couldn't help but feel selfishly happy that she wasn't. Being here means that Sansa won't have to suffer, even though he can clearly see what it has done to her.

"Maybe one day you will do just such a thing," he said, looking at her.

Looking back at him with her lit up face, Sansa opened her mouth but didn't even get the chance to form her words because someone came in. It was a soldier they were vaguely familiar with, and he went up to Sansa.

"My lady, Brienne of Tarth has arrived with news, she wishes to speak with you," the soldier said diligently. Sansa looked at Jon sternly, though with emotion still on her face., He wasn't sure what to think of that, but it excited him a little.

"I will meet with her shortly, please leave us," Sansa commanded, and the soldier then left. When they were alone again, Sansa turned to Jon, and her face was now full of a serious emotion. He assumed he should probably pay attention to whatever she says now, especially when she pulled that specific face; one of a skilled strategist who knows more about this world he has discovered he's only a rookie in.

"Brienne is trustworthy, and if she ever comes to you with anything, know that it's because of me. May I request to put her on your council?" Jon studied how quickly her face changed from serious, to inquisitive. It seems like he's been noticing her more and more lately. When they were children, they usually paid each other no mind, and now here they are, at home again hoping that they can truly trust one another.

After staring at her thinking for a little too long, Jon realized that she had asked him a question. He quickly straightened out and cleared his throat. "Of course. May I ask though, why would you want Brienne on the council and not yourself?"

"She probably understands more about what you do than me, and while you take care of your war matters, I need to put our home back together, and make it stronger than ever."

Jon smiled at her, because she gave him hope. It was lost when he was revived, but she showed up and didn't let him rest for a second. It must have happened for a reason.

"I will put that task completely in your hands then, you're probably better at it then me."

"Oh don't worry, I'm sure there are plenty of people around you that can help, including me." Sansa stood up and straightened out her dress. "I suppose I shouldn't keep Brienne waiting any longer, goodbye Jon."

"Will you meet me for dinner later?" Jon asked, realizing he was hoping way too much for a yes.

Sansa stopped at the door and finally released a pleasant smile, one that would make anyone's day. "Yes, I'll see you then."

The dining hall was silent once again without her presence, and Jon hurried to finish his breakfast so he could hurry to his council.

On the way, Jon ran into Littlefinger, who was looking over the ledge of the bridge he was crossing. It was always difficult to read his face, and his intentions worry Jon. He wondered if Sansa knew what he was planning already.

Littlefinger didn't say anything to Jon except nod his head as he passed, and then he went right back to staring down at whatever he was staring at. Jon decided to discreetly look over, and he realized that Sansa was down there.

As Jon was walking he looked at Littlefinger again, and was shocked to see his expression had completely changed for a very small second. Jon wasn't sure of how well he could read people anymore, but for some reason, when it came to Sansa he could.

And it was very clear to Jon that Littlefinger looked at Sansa with a strong look of longing. It made him wonder just what happened between them, and if Sansa could truly be trusted.

He shook the thought quickly though, and remembered Sansa's face and how sincere it was whenever she mentioned him. But if Littlefinger had feelings for Sansa, then they could definitely use that to their advantage. He can tell by their interaction just now that the only reason he's here in the first place is because of her. He would have never come otherwise.

There was something else that Jon felt, and he realized it last out of all the thoughts that cycled through his head as he went inside. He was jealous of the weird relationship they already shared, and all he wants to do is protect Sansa.

But the only thing Jon can do now is trust her, because the relationship she had with Littlefinger prior to their reunion is there, and he can't interfere. It has to be her choice completely.

Jon lets his old hope speak then, and believe Sansa is truly on his side.

 **Note: Thank you for reading this chapter to the end! Next one should be up sooner hopefully. I'm shooting for sometime next week. So look forward to that!**


	3. Good Intent

**Note:** **Sorry this is so late! I got super busy with life lately but things have slowed down a bit so hopefully updates can be more frequent from here on out, anyways please let me know what you think, I would love to hear your thoughts :)**

Sansa was relieved to find that Brienne had made it to Winterfell safely, though it was clear the disappointment of her mission failing affected her.

"It's okay Brienne, you did what you could do," Sansa said, hoping it would ease her companion. She felt a little disappointed herself about it too, but she refused to let it show on her face. It didn't matter anymore; all they can do is move forward.

"If I hadn't failed, Littlefinger wouldn't be here trying to get into your head,"  
Brienne said with a straight face, which shot up Sansa's nerves a little. The lady of Winterfell definitely knew what Brienne said was true in a way, but this time it was different. Littlefinger's words could never get to her again.

"As long as I have Jon, he'll never get to me again in that way. Especially after what he did to me. I can't forgive him or trust him."

"Have you had a moment alone with him yet?" Brienne's face has not lifted at all, which made Sansa so uneasy about what she had planned in her mind.

"Yes. But all that happened was me walking away from him as he told me he wanted me to be his queen."

Brienne sighed, and Sansa looked down, trying to shake the feeling that moment gave her. What she was going to do wasn't easy, and she needed someone who knew her plan, as dangerous as it was. Brienne was the perfect person to tell.

After a moment of silence between them, Sansa took a deep breath, "I need you to trust me. But I have to do whatever it takes to get rid of Littlefinger, and you aren't going to like it."

"Can't you just tell him to leave? He's fulfilled his aid, and he obviously doesn't support what's happening around here." The tall knight raised her eyebrow in thought, and then realization hit her. She took a deep breath, "You can't mean that you're going to-"

"I'm going to trick him, play him at his own game, and do it in the dirtiest way possible. We can't have him taking my home and family away from me. It's riskier keeping him close, I know. But I have had years of experience in his area, and I'm ready to use what I've learned." Sansa didn't realize how panicked she sounded when she mentioned how her home and family were still at a grave stake. For the first time she was speaking out her biggest fear now and the reality of it hit her. Brienne saw that on her face.

The knight sighed, "Alright, I will join your brother's counsel. I just want you to know though, if that red-headed fellow with the beard tries anything with me you and your brother will hear my complaints."

Sansa smirked at that, it was rare to have something so small and silly like that to happen these days. "I think that's a matter my brother will have to rectify if it gets that far." She had a lighter tone in her voice, it was a nice change.

Brienne saw the difference in the lady's mood, and smiled, "If it entertains you though my lady, I will endure it."

"I won't ever ask you to endure such a thing for me, there are other ways to be happy." For some reason, Jon was the first thing that popped into Sansa's mind when she thought of happiness. Though she wasn't sure how his presence could make her happier than it already does.

After a few more words exchanged, the women left the room, and eventually parted ways. It gave Sansa time to think in the daylight, and see her life for what it was; a plotting, scheming mess. While she made the conscious decision to trust Jon, she wasn't sure of Davos and Tormund. Brienne made good points about them back at Castle Black, and Sansa was giving her knight the chance to watch them now.

She let out a sigh as she walked around, watching her breath turn white as she exhaled. It was cold, but the feeling was very familiar.

Then, by some sort of irony or coincidence, Sansa walked past their house sigil at the gates. She remembered when the sigil of House Bolton was there, and how much she hated it. But seeing her own sigil reminded her of what she did, and how she endured.

"That flag is up again because of you my lady," came the sickening voice of Littlefinger. Every hair on Sansa's body rose.

She quickly turned to face him, and her thoughts of how she felt about him only got re-confirmed once more. She wanted him gone. "Why are you still here?" She asked in a slightly demanding voice.

"Because someone has to put some sense into you," he kept smiling.

"I have sense. You should know that more than anyone by now." She kept all the emotion away from her face, because he has to know her true side. This is her home, and in her home, she is not the stupid little bird everyone called her, she is a wolf. It's time that people saw that now.

"The history books will only write down King in the North Jon Snow, no one will ever sing songs of the beautiful lady that was determined to save her home." His husky voice was only a shriek in Sansa's head now, and when Littlefinger said things like that, the shriek only grew louder and more unbearable.

"I don't want people to sing songs about me, unlike you, all I need is peace. I've seen what the desire for a throne has done to people, and I want no part in it. So unless you're not going to help Jon, I'd suggest you take your army and go back to the Vale."

All he did was nod, and that irked her. "Forgive me my lady, but I don't think I can offer my services to him. Only you are worthy of such a thing."

"I don't need you anymore."

"Why not? Because you think your half-brother will listen to you now? Just like he listened to you before about needing more men?" His face showed triumph, like he thought he was going to win her over.

"And why do I need you? After what you let Ramsey do to me, why do I need you?"

His face went grim, and he didn't say another word. She quickly turned and started walking fast the other way. All their conversation did was tire her for the first time. She needed a better approach, because it was clear now that he knew how she felt. At the same time, she hoped that he would weaken for her if she showed interest.

It was going to be a long road, but Sansa wants to be the one who takes him down and puts him out. Ramsey was right, a part of him will always be with her now, and that gives her great sorrow.

"I'm going to rest, wake me when it is time for dinner," Sansa said to her maid as she was passing by her to go into her room.

She cried herself to sleep, because all she wanted was some peace and hope, and with Littlefinger getting into her head, she wasn't sure if she was going to get that.

She woke herself just before dinnertime, and quickly went to the spot that Jon had instructed her to go to. A smile crept onto her face when she found out where it was.

Sansa made her way to that spot, which was the place Jon went whenever her mother told him that he couldn't join them for dinner, and saw that Jon was sitting there with a very simple dinner of bread, and she smiled as they made eye contact.

"Don't worry Sansa, we're only going to eat here for a moment, and then rejoin everyone inside later."

"We can have all of our dinner out here together, the invitation was for only me, right?" She raised her eyebrows and grinned at him teasingly. No second thoughts occurred to her as she did this, nor did the worries of today enter her mind.

Jon smiled sweetly, it was one of his rare ones that he only seemed to give to her these days. "We can do that then, if that is what you wish."


	4. Near to You

**Note: Hey guys! I am so sorry this is late, things got hectic, but I am back on track with this finally! I really hope the wait was worth it for this chapter, it's sort of fluffy between our pair, and I hope I didn't go too ooc so please let me know what you think. Happy reading :)**

Jon had a stressful day; it started with seeing Littlefinger watch Sansa, to dealing with the rebuilding of Winterfell, to figuring out what to do about the White Walkers and the winter, it was clear he had a lot on his plate.

But sitting outside with a fire going next to Sansa relieved Jon of his daily worries. In fact, he was happy when she said she wanted it to be just the two of them for tonight.

He sipped his drink and looked at her. The ember around them set a more intimate mood, but Jon ignored that thought as quickly as it came. "So, how was your day?" Jon shifted a little in his seat, but she was calm as she ate and drank.

"Is it wrong to say that it could have been better?" She looked at him with a small sense of eagerness.

"Not at all, in fact I feel the same."

"We have our home back, and yet, everything is so different." Sansa sighed and looked down into her cup, which worried Jon a little. Ever since the battle and conquering of Winterfell, he wanted her to be happy again. It was impossible, but Jon always dreamed the impossible. If he could make Sansa smile and know she was content with the way things were, then maybe he wasn't such a failure after all.

"Even if we had stayed, things would still be different you know."

Sansa made a face, one that showed she agreed with what he said, but also showed a bit of annoyance because it was a very real and right answer. Jon just smiled. "Sorry, I don't think that answer helped much." Sansa only smiled in response.

The fire was starting to dim, and both started to shiver with the cold winter becoming more apparent. They then realized and wondered if it was a good idea to be having fires outside in the time of true winter.

Jon was sitting there shivering still, when suddenly he felt warmth. He looked to the side to see it was Sansa, leaning against him.

"Let's stay out here like this until the fire goes out, please," she said softly with her head against his shoulder. Jon felt his breath shorten, it had been so long since he had even dared to get comfortable with this kind of human contact again. And he thought that being resurrected also brought this strange feeling of appreciating it.

Without thinking, Jon slowly put his arm around Sansa, and pulled her closer. She didn't seem to mind, which Jon thought was odd. One would think that after experiencing Ramsay after she thought she was safe, she would close herself off completely. Seeing her at the wall after years though, showed him just how much she suffered at the hands of other men too. It slightly angered him a bit that one of those men was still here, thinking he was of use. Yes, Littlefinger was of use to them, especially during the battle. The only reason though, is because of Sansa. Without her, they wouldn't be sharing this moment—Even now, he still has some use to them as an ally, so it would be best not to cast him out… Yet.

He had gotten so lost in thought that he didn't realize Sansa was looking up at him. "What are you thinking about?"

He smiled, "Uhh, the usual. You know, defeating the white walkers… And stuff."

Sansa let out a chuckle, "Something tells me that's not true." She nuzzled herself in closer, and looked at the fire.

Jon scratched the back of his head with his free hand and lowered his hold on her. He suddenly felt really shy and nervous. Why was he sitting at a fire next to his half-sister? Out of all the possibilities in the world, the Gods planned this. Though Jon didn't have much faith in the Gods anymore, seeing as there is nothing in the afterlife.

"What else could I be thinking about?"

He knew Sansa was smiling as he said it, and waited eagerly for her response. "How warm and nice this is," she said while nuzzling into him slightly.

They heard footsteps, and both of them quickly jolted apart, the warmth of the moment gone, and the cold chill settling in. They tried to look civil for the sake of whoever the footsteps belonged to, and it ended up being Brienne; who looked like she was pouting.

"Ahh, Lady Sansa there you are," she said in her stately voice.

"Anything to report?" Jon looked at Sansa and how quickly she composed herself and went back to business mode. She had been taught well. He could really learn from her.

"I just was wondering if I could keep you both company—Tormund has been staring me down all evening and it eventually made me uncomfortable." She then turned her head to Jon, "I hope you know that out of respect for you I haven't smacked him yet."

Jon nodded, "I will have a word with him."

"Not sure if it will do much, he is a wildling after all."

He only responded by nodding again. "I'll take my leave now, I had a very nice dinner with you, Sansa." He smiled and nodded as he stood up, waiting for her response standing in a slightly stiff awkward position.

"I had a nice time too, try to get some rest Jon, okay?" Sansa's face was so sweet when she spoke to him, and he was still adjusting somewhat. But the feeling she gave him was nice. It was warm, like the color of her hair.

He walked off smiling, trying to keep his mind on her, and their moment together. It might be the only thing that puts him to sleep.

The feeling quickly faded when he saw Littlefinger lurking around the corner, trying to remain unseen. Jon quickly went over to him.

"How long are you going to stay here and bother Sansa?" He said to his hidden figure.

The lord quickly peered his head around the corner, trying to remain inconspicuous. "I was only passing by my lord—Or is it king now?"

"Jon is fine, now answer my question."

"Did she tell you I was bothering her? She wrote to me for help after all." It was very hard for Jon to read anything but sly on his expressions. He recalled Sansa's words:

 _"_ _Only a fool would trust Littlefinger."_

"And yet you are here, hiding from me instead of approaching me. May I ask how long have you been loitering around?"

Littlefinger only smiled, and put his hands behind his back. "As I said, I was only passing by, Jon." The lord then nodded to him and kept walking. Jon was convinced that he was lying, but before he said anything else he realized he had to have proof. As of now there was none.

But one thing was clear to Jon, and it was that he had to get rid of Littlefinger.


	5. Heavy in Your Arms

**Note:** **Hello! I know this is very terribly late so I hope I still have some readers out there, I am going to try and upload more frequently, because I do want to finish this before season 7 starts haha, but anyway, this chapter is a bit angsty and I'm tired now so please enjoy and tell me what you think! I would really love to hear some feedback ;3 happy reading!**

Sansa woke up from what she thought was going to be a nice sleep screaming and thrashing around. Brienne quickly burst in the room and looked around, and was relieved yet worried that it was only her having a nightmare.

"Was it about Ramsay?" The lady knight asked.

Sansa only shook her head, "It was a haze of a lot of things. Whether they actually happened or not I don't know. The moments go by so fast… That's all it ever is these days." She put her hand on her head, and realized she was hot and sweating. It wasn't like her to become so weak, especially in her sleep.

"Shall I fetch for your brother?"

Sansa quickly shook her head and stood up. "No, I'm sure he has a lot on his plate, and so do I." She walked past Brienne and to her closet to get a dress ready for the day. "Aren't there meetings soon? You need to attend them."

Brienne's face was still worn with concern. Sansa didn't look right, but she won't admit it. They're all aware of how many things need to be done. Brienne didn't know Sansa very well, but she can see her devotion. In a way it mirrored her own. "What is your plan for today my lady?" She asked very carefully.

"I'm going to listen to the needs of the people, since we need to prepare for what's coming with the long winter. There's so much to do." Sansa sounded a little hoarse as she spoke. Her voice was already deep, but there was roughness that Brienne caught on to very quickly.

"My lady, I think you need to rest," she said carefully.

Sansa just shook her head and continued to get ready. "No, it's already late in the day, and there are many important things that we both must do. There is absolutely no time to waste. If it eases you, Podrick will stay by my side."

Brienne nodded in agreement to that, "You don't have to strain yourself if you feel like you can't handle it though my lady."

"Everyone is doing their part in getting ready for winter, I must do mine."

Moments later Sansa was sitting in the Great Hall, listening to the needs of Winterfell's people. All the while she felt very ill. But she wanted to think it was nothing and kept herself upright.

She listened to lots of stories that made her heart break. Very few people knew Winterfell as it once was, so the hearing didn't last long. Sansa was determined to do her best to reform her home to the way it once was, but with the knowledge of what other people did to the home that she was proud of, made her even more sick than she already felt. The sick deeds that were carried out here desecrated it completely. Even though the Boltons were gone, she couldn't bring herself to forget that they were here, enjoying themselves on a land they thought they conquered so happily. Sansa was beginning to realize that her home would never feel like the same home she once knew.

Yet, knowing that didn't stop her from trying. Maybe that was the last little bit of the dreamer in her that was left.

When it was done and the hall was quiet, Sansa let out a big sigh. She didn't know exactly what it was that Jon had seen beyond the wall, but she knew it was crucial that Winterfell kept its defenses. Showing him that he has her trust in this matter is important, and Sansa won't jeopardize it. Along with that, she must protect him.

Just then Littlefinger entered the room, which caused Sansa to stand up so quickly that she stumbled. It wasn't because she was surprised, her sudden dizziness confirmed she was indeed ill and feeling the effects of it. Podrick came swiftly to her side, as well as the lord of the Vale, and Sansa opened her mouth to speak but a voice from the distance had beaten her to what she wanted to say.

"You lay a finger on my lady, and you will be cut down," came the booming voice of Brienne.

Littlefinger abruptly stopped walking, and his face went from one of hope to one of a small disappointment. It didn't show for long though. Sansa unfortunately knew him well enough to know exactly what he was thinking though.

The rest of the day Sansa spent in bed with Brienne outside the door. It gave her way too much time to think. And yet she couldn't think straight. There was one thing that kept coming up in her mind. It was the fact that now she was a leader upfront now. She had to make so many decisions now.

Then another thought came to mind, how many of these things she did would be remembered? At the same time, did it matter? Sansa's head just kept swirling with thoughts.

Her thoughts were interrupted by mumbles outside her door, and Sansa hoped it wasn't Littlefinger.

But when the door opened and it was Jon, she sighed in relief.

He walked in and smiled one of his rare smiles that only seemed to be toward her. She looked down and saw that he had a bowl of soup for her. Those things alone made her heart swell in a way she had never thought it would before, especially at the sight of Jon.

"No more late night campfires for a while huh?" He sat at the chair next to her bed, which sent shivers down her spine. Her response was only a nod.

She sat up and he gave her the soup. Tears nearly sprang from her eyes as she took the first sip. The taste of home was so familiar, she could almost feel it. But she knew it would never be there again the way it was. Hearing those stories earlier reminded her of that.

As she kept eating she cried, and Jon just sat with her. She wondered what he was feeling right now. Does his stress even begin to compare with hers?

A terrifying thought came across her mind, and without thinking she voiced it. "What if we lose? What if all we do is for nothing?" She looked at him with wide eyes. Looking at his, she saw the fear he held behind them too.

"Sansa, we're going to get through this. I promise you." Jon grabbed Sansa's hand gently, and held it tightly.

"You said something like that before the battle Jon. Are you sure you can handle what's coming?" Her voice was breaking, and the emotions that she had been holding back were springing back up and taking her over. She tightened her grip on his hand nonetheless. "Don't make any more promises Jon… Please. This place is never going to be the same as it once was. The Boltons have ruined it." The tears kept coming down her face. She had never felt so broken in a long time.

"We can make it better Sansa, I prom-"

"Don't say it Jon. You can't promise. You just can't… Everything that we may have believed in before, we're old enough to know that this world doesn't work that way…" She loosened her grip on his hand. Her head was pounding and she felt terrible.

"We can try, and that's what counts." Jon's voice was lower now, and Sansa could tell there was uncertainty in it now.

"You know better than me what lies behind that wall, and if you don't sound confident that you can beat that… I don't know if I can hold on to hope." It was strange, Jon was here yet her frantic state of mind was not going away. It actually worsened, just like before the battle which happened not too long ago. It gave Sansa a realization. She let go of his hand.

"Sansa please, I need you to have faith."

Sansa's lips pursed at that statement. "I lost that a long time ago Jon. You don't know what I've been through, you don't know how ruined I am."

He opened his mouth to say something, but then quickly closed it. After that he withdrew completely. "Get some rest Sansa. We still have a lot to do." Then he stood up and went to walk away but he stopped abruptly. Sansa had her arms crossed, tears falling from her eyes.

"Don't say anything else, just leave if you don't want to hear anymore harsh truths."

"We'll get through this together, I promise."

When Sansa didn't respond Jon took that as his cue to leave, so he did. After moments of silence, she started to sob uncontrollably. If she wasn't confined to the bed maybe she would be throwing things, but she felt so helpless and weak.

If this world was going away, then what is her true purpose now? With that thought in mind, Sansa drifted off into a dreamless sleep. Part of her hoped that she would never wake up.

But there was one tiny part left in her, that hoped she would wake with a happier feeling than now. As happy as she could possibly get.


	6. Brave Enough

**Note: Hey! So it's been a while I know. I got suuuppperr busy with my classes, it's the last week of school though (so it totally makes sense that I am posting this chapter now instead of doing the many projects I have yet to do haha) but I'm almost done and ready to finish this before season 7 starts. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, it's a bit different and I hope I don't go too ooc with some of the characters (Tormund) So please let me know what you think as I would love to hear your feedback! Happy reading ;3**

The next morning Jon tried to hide his annoyance when he passed by Littlefinger on his way to go and check up on Sansa. He hoped there was no success in whatever the shady lord tried to attempt. But both men blankly nodded as they passed each other.

Jon's annoyance turned to disappointment when he got to Sansa's room and Brienne stood up and shook her head.

"Lady Sansa doesn't want to see anyone today," she said gravely.

"How is she?"

"Still under the weather, and very moody."

Jon nodded, hiding any expression from his face. What he feared came true. But now it reiterates the fact that he and Sansa have a lot of work to do with each other.

"Did she finish the soup I gave her at least?"

Brienne nodded, and handed him the bowl. "I'm really sorry to enforce this, but it's what my lady wishes."

"You're just doing your job, and I'm glad you're doing it well," Jon said as he took the bowl with an understanding smile, and walked away. His face dropped the moment he knew no one could see him.

He jealously admitted to himself that he found comfort in the fact that Brienne was guarding her door, because it meant that there was no way Littlefinger got in.

He dropped the bowl off in the kitchen and gave instructions to make sure more was sent to Sansa, and then he went off to send another letter to Sam. Ever since he had set up in Winterfell, Jon had been communicating with his friend to get him to find more information on how to defeat the white walkers.

On the way, he recalls all the memories of his early days in the Night's Watch. Among those things was his poor brothers who have passed on, being a steward to Jeor Mormont, and all the times he had to remember his vows.

Then, out of nowhere, Ygritte pops into his mind, and Jon's eyes go wide.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," came an all too familiar voice.

Jon focused back into reality, and before him was Tormund. He took a sharp breath and tried to conceal himself. "Maybe I have."

"Whose ghost got you so worked up Snow?" Tormund raised his brow in interest. It made Jon think of his experience with the wildlings. Never did he think that he would get so involved with them, let alone fall in love with one of them.

"Do you want to guess?" Jon asked with a bit of sarcasm.

"Is it someone I know?"

Jon gave the red-haired wildling a half smile, "You don't have to worry about it." He then kept walking.

Tormund quickly followed him. "You know, there's something I've been wondering about you."

Jon stopped, and looked at him but didn't say anything.

"Since you're free of those stupid crow vows, what are you going to do after this war is over?"

Jon knew at this point what Tormund was now onto, and his serious expression dropped. But he quickly tried to combat it. "I don't know if I'll live through this war, but if I do I don't intend to rule. It was never meant for me."

"Nonsense. Look at what have you brought together." Tormund gestured to all of Winterfell.

"It was my sister's idea to do this. And what good will I be just sitting on a throne at keeping peace? I only know how to do war. I don't want to be like Robert Baratheon."

Tormund kept his eyebrow up, and Jon wasn't sure if it had stayed that way the entire time or not. "You will learn. I don't know every detail of your fucked up history here, but your sister seems to have good knowledge of it."

"That's why the throne belongs to her, I'm not good at this." Jon started walking again. He wasn't keen to keep this conversation going and decided it was going to end there.

"I have faith that you'll learn, or maybe some fine lady will come along and teach ya." Tormund's face was slightly smug as he said this.

Jon stopped, and Ygritte was there in his mind again. "I don't know if I can ever dishonor Ygritte…" After saying that, Jon felt a hint of uncertainty.

Tormund chuckled. "She's not the only person you'll ever love Snow, and she's dead. And you've seen death haven't you? If it is as you say, she won't come back to haunt you. How many people do you think I've been through before I found the one I would have children with?"

That statement made Jon very uncomfortable. It put new thoughts into his head he had never considered before in terms of himself. Nonetheless, he decided to go with the answer that was comfortable.

"That life was never meant for me."

Jon walked away after that, only faster this time.

While writing the letter, Jon thought about how Sam must be doing, especially with Gilly and her baby at his side. He wondered what that was like, and then immediately cursed himself for thinking about it. It wasn't long after that that he stopped writing and got lost in all those thoughts.

Will he make it through the war? And if not, then who would he marry if he were to stay a king?

Sansa was his first thought.

It sent shivers down his spine. He suddenly wondered if she was doing any better. He wanted to see her, not realizing where he was mixing his thoughts with.

Jon wished he could just run away from it all. He really wanted to.

After finishing the letter, He started in the direction of Sansa's chambers, really determined to storm in there and stay with her until she was better. But then he stopped, realizing it was probably disrespectful.

He stood in the middle of the courtyard pondering what he should do, whether it was storming into her room or going back to his own to sleep his frustration off. All at the same time he felt he should be active.

Somewhere in his indecisive frenzy, Jon noticed that Littlefinger was watching him. He immediately went calm as their eyes met.

"You seem troubled," The lord said with a hint of a smirk on his face. All the while Jon made himself look calm, but he didn't feel calm. "Maybe I can be of use to you, your grace." The way the last two words sounded on his tongue was very honeyed.

"I don't think you can help me."

"Oh but I can, because I imagine it concerns our lovely lady Stark." Anyone passing by could see the smirk on Littlefinger's face now. "I happened to notice your visit to her chambers this morning was very short."

Jon took a couple steps toward him. His face was still calm but inside he was raging. If Jon could confirm this man was of no use to him, there would be no need to hold himself back.

"I only went in there to check on her, there was no need to stay as I am a busy man."

Littlefinger gave him a short nod, "You can't fool me."

Jon raised his eyebrow, "I'm not trying to fool you, it's the truth." He wondered if Littlefinger slipped up, or if he said that on purpose. "I notice you have been absent on our war council meetings. May I ask why?"

"Because the Lady of Winterfell isn't present in them, though she should be."

"We've already decided our roles. Yours is the only one I have a hard time trying to figure out." He walked even closer to Littlefinger now.

With that, both men tensed up, and Jon's frenzied state was starting to slip.

"I'd watch out if I were you, because the whole south will be on my side if it comes down to us. You have your home back because of me."

Jon shook his head, and took a breath calming himself slightly.

"Sansa is the reason I am standing here. She is the only reason."

"And now she won't talk to you, so what good is that?" The smirk was fully present on his face, and with that Jon fell right into his trap.

He looked around, making sure no one was watching, and then he slammed Littlefinger against the wall. "You don't know anything about our relationship!" His voice was low, but if it were any louder the people in the courtyard not paying attention would hear him.

The discomfort on Littlefinger's face was satisfying, and it was enough for now. But Littlefinger still had his wits about him. "Your strength is nothing to me. You think you are the first man to do this? You're wrong."

Jon let go of him, and his nostrils were flaring so much that little puffs of white smoke were coming out every time they did.

"You're no use to me. I think you have done enough here. This is your last warning." He walked off in the direction of Sansa's chambers, his mind completely made up.

Arriving there, he noticed that Podrick was now standing guard at Sansa's door, and when Podrick stood up Jon raised his hand, blocking Podrick's attempt to stop him.

Jon tried the doorknob, and was relieved to find it was unlocked.

But the moment he stepped in and looked around, he saw something he knew he shouldn't have seen.

Sansa was wrapped in a cloth, and she looked so fragile and broken. Her eyes were red, and it was the first time that Jon had seen so many bruises on someone who was meant to be a lady, and it was shocking. His heart broke for her.

"What are you doing?" Sansa asked after a few moments of silence and the two of them now in a locked gaze.

"I-" Jon struggled for words, he was trying to take in the scene. He had just walked in on his sister, not knowing he would catch her in this state. But finally he took a deep breath, and slumped a bit.

"I didn't want you to be alone and anymore, and neither do I." He looked at her with worry now, even though there was probably a bit of embarrassment in there as well.

There was so much fear in Sansa's eyes, and Jon felt absolutely terrible for intruding, but he was there to make a point, even if it made them both uncomfortable.

Tears fell from her eyes finally, and she nodded. "Will you please wait outside- While I change? We can talk after that, I promise."

Jon turned red, and he quickly nodded and stepped out. But embarrassment aside, he was relieved. Maybe it was another step into their strength. They're going to need all that they can get.


End file.
